top of page
RoseElephant copy.jpg


Oh Instagram, my how you’ve changed everyone’s lives. I remember creating the account in 2010, and all but forgetting about it for the next eight months after that. Now? Now I’ll run outside onto a freezing NY rooftop in 27° weather just to make sure my picture of my Henn and Coke in X-Pro II loads. Apparently, Instagram brings out everyone’s inner photographer, narcissist, philosopher, chef, and gym rat. All in hopes for that coveted spot on the popular page, or self-validation in the form of a “like”.

Not only does Instagram allow you to share with the whole wide world how many miles you ran and the exact route you took, it also throws shade, dehydrates, and breaks up relationships. Poor little Kim K can’t go a day without someone threatening to kill her for existing, and the last time I saw a rivalry as big as Team Karrueche vs. Team Rihanna, we lost Biggie and Tupac. The best is when two thirsty ass females are fighting over some dude that doesn’t own a shirt talking about “That’s my husband!” Ladies, he’s married to that dirty bathroom mirror, none of you stand a fucking chance! And I don’t know what’s worse, people who follow you just to get a follow back? Or the people who unfollow you just because you don’t follow them back?

Le sigh. I’ve never seen so many people take something so petty, so serious. I just used the word “so” three times in the same sentence by the way. But amidst all the wisecracks and shallowness, I really am grateful for the app that everybody loves to hate, and everyone hates to admit they love. It’s not only a constant reminder of how much I like tree branches and pretty lights (geez Abi, really?), it’s a constant reminder of how amazing my life is. 

I can’t help but scroll through my pictures sometimes and think to myself, you are one lucky broad. Sure, there are no pictures of me flaunting stacks of hundreds on a private jet, or breathtaking views of my Louboutin filled walk-in shoe closet – what more sunsets in Dubai. But my Instagram boasts an abundance of memories that still make me feel grateful for the things I’m capable of doing, the places I’m lucky to have seen, and the people I’m blessed to have in my life.

3 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Lonely, but Not Alone (Written 01.13.21)

Don't tell me not to feel lonely. You don't know what lonely is. I've spent many moons dancing by myself, and solo sunsets staring into my own eyes. Yet, I'm still here scratching and clawing and flou


bottom of page